The Art of Deception
by Hush Now
Summary: Second Chapter LIVE! It had to be done. Frollo and Gothel meet after the events of both of their movies. I am terrible at fanfiction, but I just saw Tangled and needed to do this.
1. A Meeting in the Woods

The moon, cradled in a down of gray-washed clouds, cast an eerie white glaze over the fresh blanket of snow that had settled over the forest. The low moan of the winter wind rattled the leafless branches of arching trees overshadowing the tower clearing as a single speckled fawn pawed for grass beneath the frigid sheet. The lifeless tower, sides packed with snowdrifts and ornate windows spun over with frosted cobwebs, had truly been forgotten. A hideous overgrowth of wilted vines constricted the structure, dead weeds having sprung from between its weathered stonework.

The fawn shaved away at the layers of snow, before its hoof grazed the tethered remnants of a black velvet cloak covering the brown grass underneath. Using its teeth to tug at the tatters, the fawn grunted as a hand, nearly as pale as the snow and coated in a golden dew, grabbed at one of its forelegs, twisted wine-red nails digging into the animal's ankle. It squealed, frantically heaving backwards to rattle itself free.

A pair of slate blue eyes blinked away the snow, as an emaciated woman dressed in a waterlogged, discolored scarlet dress sat bolt upright, sputtering snow as though she had been drowning. She blew a few curls of jet black hair from her face, releasing the fawn and brushed the back of her hand against her frozen cheeks. The woman broke the surface of the snow with her knee, groaning as she gathered up the remains of her cloak with a shocked look on her face, "I- I, I'm alive?" She touched her cheek again, massaging it softly with her sharp fingertips, "I'm alive!" A nearly inaudible, wheezing cackle erupted from the pit of her throat, as she licked her lips in pleasant surprise.

"B- but how?" As she wobbled to a stand, extending a hand to rest against the side of the tower for support, her bare feet were curled in a pool of dimly glittering gold that, upon closer inspection, had gathered at the foot of the tower from cracks in its foundation. She squatted, gazing into her fair, young reflection with bewilderment; she tossed her hair as a satisfied smirk overcame her dry lips, "Rapunzel's tears," she lifted her gaze to the highest window, shutters having been cast open by the torrid gale of the recent blizzard, "they must have leaked through the floorboards when she was healing that... Flynn- Flynn!" She touched the side of her head with a sudden scowl, "you may have stolen my life once, but I'm back... and I would so like my pretty flower back," she curled her fists, "oh Rapunzel, mummy's coming for you!" She pulled the hood down over her eyes, barring her teeth,

_"flower, gleam and glow_

_ let your power shine_

_ Make the clock reverse,_

_ bring back what once was mine-"_

The liquid in her hands began to glow, softening and warming her chilled body as she bit her bottom lip, a short breath escaping in a puff of steam from between her lips as the tears ran through her fingers, rich color rushing back into her complexion. "Much better," she turned her head back to the still-rippling puddle that she had woken from, "oh, I am going to need you." She wagged a finger at her precious serum, before ducking under the icicle-ridden, uncovered passageway at the base of the tower.

She wrapped what was left of the cloak tighter around her slender form in the freezing darkness, nearly tripping when she stubbed her toe on the leg of an overturned chair as she extended her hands to use the faint glow of the tears as a torch, "now... where did I put-" the woman kneeled before a fine wooden dresser, pulling open the bottom drawer, "ah! there you are," she produced a sinister, blood-stained iron dagger and a palm-sized glass phial, blowing the dust off as the light began to fade, swallowing her back up into a silent pitch blackness.

"Ugh," her fingers were nearly dry. "Matches, matches-" she eased up against the wall, outstretching her hands to feel around on the nearby table after having secured the dagger and phial in a pocket on the inside of her cloak. Her fingers clumsily grabbed the waxen rod of a candle, and she could feel a few spare matches pressing into the underside of her wrist. Feeling for the table's rim, she struck a match on the wood, pinching the candle wick between two fingers as she lit it, setting the candle into a brass clutch near the center of the table. Tipping the chair back upright, she took a brief sit, flipping the dagger back and forth in her trembling hands, face hollow and ghastly in the candlelight, the side of her lip twitched as she murmured to herself, "oh, my daughter... simply a phial will not suffice. But she is the princess; she will be well-protected..." she growled, thrusting the blade into the table with frustration, running her free hand through her thick curls of raven hair.

The small flame danced wildly on its wick as a male voice echoed through the creaking frame of the tower, "hello, Gothel. You do not know me, but I believe we could... assist each other," what was once a wild flicker had now taken shape into the fiery representation of a rather tall, finely robed man stroking his chin in thought, nigh-formless fingers dropping a pepper of cinders onto the table.

The woman, taken aback by the great voice being produced by such a tiny figure, leaned in closer, so that her slanted eyes were level with his pupiless, searing pits, "who are you? How do you know my name?"

"Oh, the world has been wicked to us both, hasn't it? Someone whom you cherished very deeply has eluded you, has she not? Left the woman who raised her, loved her, and taught her, to rot in the forest while she lived 'happily ever after.' Does this sound familiar?" His searing lip quivered into a frighteningly kind smirk.

"H- how did you... how did you-" Gothel's nose was nearly touching the flame at this point, brows furrowed with curiosity.

"We share a similar plight, you and I. I was once the man known as Frollo; a man of God... of divine righteousness and purity until she! she seared the purity from my heart. I was but a man, and even the most holy of men... can be, well... tempted by... desire." He was beginning to pace, shimmying down the side of the candle to rest on the rim of the holder, leaving a trail of wet wax and slight burn marks near Gothel's hand, though his scalding form was still attached to the wick, much as a spider dangling from a thread.

"Well, Mister Frollo... as delusional as I must be to speak to my candle, it just proves I need the fresh air. I really must be leaving, as the city is such a trek..." she trailed as the fire dissipated, the cinders carrying on the draft, and as it settled onto the floor in front of the door, it began to push upward into the crude semblance of his former self forged from ash, long, trailing wisps of grey forming his heavy robes, and the burning ember slits of his eyes narrowed further as Gothel began to stand, hand sliding to the handle of her dagger.

"Step aside," Gothel's grip tightened as Frollo's infernal body finally morphed into a far more human image, his black robe puddling at his feet. Unkempt, ashen hair had grown down past his shoulders, and his pupils had grown a rather stale, empty gray, "I am afraid your... cause... intersects with my own. You see, a little birdie told me that my pretty flame, Esmerelda, is traveling to _your _city to dance. You aid me, and I will be sure to aid _you_ with stealing into the castle and reclaiming your daughter," a superior grin curved up onto his thin lips, "oh, and a tinge of that... delightful serum of yours," he pinched two fingers together.

"Absolutely not. I prefer to work alone; I will find a way without your... _assistance._ Your price is far too high- I need every drop. I mean, suppose Rapunzel proves too difficult to acquire? There is no benefit in letting...something like you... shorten the span of my eternal youth," Gothel unsheathed the dagger, staying it straight in Frollo's direction, "now step aside. What ever you are- you cannot tempt me." She began to approach him, frustrated and brandishing the weapon furiously.

He caught her wrist as she thrusted towards his heart, twisting it slightly, "now, now, I am your only friend, Miss Gothel. Have we not both seen enough violence in our own deaths, alone? Still your hand and be grateful to me. I respect you, and your ambitions, as we are not so different." He leaned in rather close, so that their noses were nearly touching, and a string of smoke escaped his mouth as he grimaced, "they called me a monster. How I could make blasphemers scream-" he began to twist her wrist a bit more; she winced, biting her lip, yet kept a stern expression against the face of the imposing man who stood before her.

"I could see her... dancing. I prayed and prayed and prayed, but the only God who listened thrived in the very conflagration I was trying to escape, and in the end, I was cast to burn with the very Devil I spent my life... believing I could... resist. Oh, it crawled under my skin; the desire... it killed me once, but I have been reborn a better man." He extended his other hand, brushing her tangled hair with a set of bony fingers, "... the hue of a raven's plumage, just like hers," he pulled back, grinding his teeth to one side, "a truly tantalizing shade."

"Can you promise that you will guarantee me Rapunzel... if I allow you a taste of youth?" Gothel flinched slightly at her own realization that she was falling into trust with a man so much like herself- a deceiver and manipulator.

"I swear upon my immortal soul." Frollo crossed himself, flashing a wicked grin.

"We do not break promises in this tower," she snarled in all seriousness, before pushing past him to exit, exchanging her dagger for the phial.

"Follow me. I know the quickest way to the city." Gothel hesitantly took a step back out in the silence of the winter evening, the ragged cape of her cloak whipping about in the wind, as Frollo trailed close behind, watching with eager eyes as the woman knelt to dip her phial into the remains of the golden puddle. Gothel kissed the cork of the apparatus, seemingly mesmerized by the glistening liquid concealed inside.

"It'll only get colder," the woman mumbled quietly, re-pocketing the phial as the two reached the edge of the clearing, and with some minor reluctance, Gothel stepped over the threshold and into the thick of the woods.

"If you say so," Frollo chuckled, following closely at her heels.


	2. A Sharing of Tales

Each branch creaked under the weight of snow, a light peppering twirling down from the canopies. Gothel had found herself surveying her surroundings far more meticulously than ever, trembling hand gripping the phial of tears securely enough to break it. The warmth of renewal had begun to settle, so that the stark, frostbitten air began to nip at her face; the woman dragged her hood further down over her face, grinding her teeth to keep from chattering. There was something particularly off about Frollo, even by her standards; she managed to maintain a noticeable gap, never veering her eyes.

"How much further?" His tone was grim, and unmistakably impatient.

"Well- it's about three days to the nearest town, and even then-" she was cut off by one rather grievous glare from Frollo, "three days?" he clenched his fists tightly, stopping fast in his own tracks with a heavy crunch! of deep snow.

"If you would let me finish! I kept Rapunzel as secluded as possible, far off the beaten path to prevent wayward vagrants from... compromising my... luxuries," his glare stiffened further as Gothel continued to explain, a scowl deepening upon his thin lips.

"There must be a quicker way," Gothel back-stepped hesitantly as Frollo heaved, turning with a narrowing of his color-washed eyes, "there _must _be a _quicker_ way!" he repeated with a slightly unsettling, carnal ferocity, "if I miss her... if I miss Esmerelda-" he folded his hands close against his chest, nearly snarling in frustration at this point, "it will be your head." The chilling temperature suddenly seemed the least of her problems,

"and here I was about to insist we take a break..." Gothel uttered to herself under an especially loud breath, squeaking in shock as Frollo snatched her off her feet by the clasp of her cloak, and she could catch a whiff of the rank stench of brimstone on his breath, "we are both after the same thing, wench." He grunted, tapping his throat with a brief twitch as he let her go, now refusing to make eye contact.

"You have a serious superiority issue. You know that, right? I don't know when you decided to usurp the king's throne, but as far as I'm concerned, we are on equal ground, and as I recall... is it not me who is leading you to the city? Without your guide, you will _never_ reach your precious Esmerelda." Gothel briefly rolled her eyes, "and if you think I am not equally as... adamant... about retrieving my Rapunzel, then you are sorely mistaken-" as she stepped up onto a mostly-concealed tree stump, the woman's smirk grew from ear to ear as she began to whistle a subtle tune, almost as quiet as the whistling breeze, tapping a foot as she stared down at a perplexed Frollo:

_"Now listen here, devil man,_

_mister fire and brimstone, see-" _

She stepped down, touching her hands to his shoulders as she circled him, prowling with a sudden grasp of the upper-hand,

_"you're in my woods, now_

_and there's no fear of God in me-" _

Gothel unsheathed her dagger, slipping up against a tree trunk before Frollo could snatch her,

_"Now, even as a fish out of water_

_you're still itching for the slaughter_

_looking to come out on top-" _

She slinked to one side of the tree, dancing around to come out behind Frollo, kicking a wave of snow at his back,

_"when you can't even see how far you've dropped." _

"Shut up!" The man growled, swiping out as she drew close,

_"Everyone's inherently evil, _

_there's no way to repent,_

_and as desperately as you tried to clamor_

_you just fell right back into that pit of sin!" _

Gothel found herself perched back upon the stump, eying a frustrated Frollo with some satisfaction,

_"So settle down, devil man_

_and take a walk with me_

_'cause if we work together_

_we'll have our immortality." _

Frollo turned his head to the side as Gothel slid down beside him, concealing the dagger and phial once again. It had begun to snow once more, soft swirls spiraling to the ground as Frollo, wordlessly, complied when Gothel began to move forward once more. "I will not concede, but if I must put up with this nonsense to get to the city, then so be it. But..." he winced and exaggeratedly covered an ear, "keep it to a minimum. You're more grating than a drunken gypsy."

"Oh, Rapunzel quite delighted in my singing," Gothel seemed a bit put off by Frollo's innate coldness towards anything that would bring a normal person delight.

"And, my jaded woman, do I bear any remote semblance to Rapunzel?"

Gothel shook her head.

"I didn't think so," he folded his hands beneath the shroud of his sleeves as he walked, just a tad bit faster than her.

"_You_ came to _me_ wanting to make a deal, Frollo. I am not entirely sure why you're so avid about remaining cold and closed to me," she scratched her nose with the flash of a grin, "I am sure I would manage a way to reclaim Rapunzel without your aid."

"I locked Quasimodo away in the tower," Frollo blurted with a curl of his bottom lip.

"Who's Quasimodo?" This piqued Gothel's interest further; she was finding it more and more of a necessity to try and reach every upper-hand possible with such an incorrigible companion.

"I used to fear God's wrath. To the extent where I feared even the eyes of the statues upon the parapets of Notre Dame judged me. One of my colleagues rescued a child... if you could call it that... from a pack of gypsies fleeing Paris, my homeland. It was hideous; a disgusting malformed, abominable devil-spawn which I was tasked with raising under the fear of incurring God's judgement. I made... him... fear the world, and the people who dwelled in it, though what I originally believed would one day come of use only ended up in aiding with my death, after all," he breathed a long, solemn breath,

"and it was through him that I realized that the Devil's strength was far more... tantalizing... than my own. Once Quasimodo got out once, my fate was sealed. I tried so desperately to condemn him... believing that he was the one that needed saving, that I did not even realize the fire I was feeling boiling my insides was that Devil... not some holy test."

Gothel listened on in silence, finding herself only occasionally glancing over at Frollo as he confessed from out of the corner of her eye, "fire?"

"Passion. Lust. Rage. Like hellfire-" he shook with reminiscence; he shook with the very recollections of his own faults.

"Then I suppose we are not so different, after all," Gothel chuckled, placing a friendly hand upon his shoulder as they passed out of the thicket and into a sparser wood. "The sun should be up soon, so it should only be a bit over a day before we reach civilization."

Frollo forced a small smile, hands now crossed behind his back, "Excellent."


End file.
